#perpetually perplexed cat

[soupkiddo]

ways that I hold boo (I am not so good at holding cats)

[cheriecelestial]

Jacob Black's Self Saving System Pt.1

disclaimer *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ crack.swearing.not proofread

synopsis *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Jason, a self-proclaimed no. 1 Stephenie Meyer hater, finds himself unexpectedly transmigrated into the very novel he disdained. Following this ironic twist of fate, he is now tasked with the challenge of creating a better version of the story himself.

a/n *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Inspired from @duckysprouts ’s series. It’s so good ⁉️‼️. If you haven’t seen it already, PLEASE GO CHECK IT OUT. Like finally svsss content that isn’t shizun sphinx cats or binghe skin creature abomination. Art and concept so fresh it made my heart cry with joy and pulled me out of my three-month long writing slump. So, I humbly present this as an offering to our lord and savior, Ducky. Comment, Reblog and Like (∩˃o˂∩)♡

Pt 2

Twilight by Stephanie Meyer was a modern classic in its renaissance era with a large cult that loved to hate it. Set in a place with relentless rain, mist shrouded forest and an ethereal light piercing the gloom — the light being the one of only Edward Cullen. Though the statement is subject to fan bias — he was a man, rather sparkly vampire, who somehow managed to be both irresistible and perpetually constipated. 

Nonetheless, his charms never overshadowed the stellar performance of our female lead, Isabella Marie Swan— better known as Bella — a teenager who gained worldwide fame for having a personality less vibrant than a wet cabbage. Together, they navigated the perilous world of teenage angst, vampire baseball, millenia old racist italian politicians and werewolves with a curious t-shirt allergy, all in an impressively monotone palette.

It was a heartwarming tale that began with awkward stares, cryptic yet nauseatingly clichéd conversations and Bella’s inexplicable attraction to danger, making the romance as thrilling as it was perplexing. Meanwhile, the supporting cast of her high school friends, each with their own irrelevant quirks and subplots, served as convenient plot devices — appearing and disappearing at the whim of the author.

And as if her love life wasn’t tumultuous enough, Bella befriended Jacob Black. A werewolf who, unsurprisingly, hated all things vampire and Edward Cullen in particular. Between Edward’s brooding, Jacob’s abs and Bella’s classic damsel-in-distress antics that made poor Elena Gilbert seem unremarkable by comparison — the story unfolded with the subtlety of a glitter bomb and reached unprecedented heights of melodrama. Something that helped the tale become a global phenomenon, demonstrating that improbable love stories can indeed shine in their own sparkly “skin-of-a-killer” fashion.

“This has to be the worst piece of literature I’ve ever read in my life.” Those were strong words from a man who spent years and at least six hundred dollars collecting softbacks and hardbacks in every special and limited edition the series offered. Jason Black was an anti-fan who lived to scoff at the literary mediocrities of authors who, after taking one look at their drafts, believed they deserved to be released into the world as actual literature. Such people, often inspired by similar works, spawned their own deranged narratives, subsequently contaminating the sanctity of literature. 

In layman’s terms, Jason was a fervent hater of the highest order. He had a long list of things he despised about the series, yet curiously, re-watching the movies and re-reading the books always found its way to the top of his to-do list every other weekend. But do not get him wrong, not once did he say anything in favour of the series. Jason simply considered it one of those brain-rotting pieces that needed to be experienced to truly appreciate the beauty of classics like Emily Brontë and Jane Austen.

_username_1 : Bruh stfu. You’re probably an unemployed loner with nothing better to do in life than to be a keyboard warrior.  

_username_2 : then idk buddy don’t read it ? It’s not that hard. 

Jason huffed at the screen crossily, his fingers dancing over the keyboard unsure of what to type next. With a sigh, he stretched his arms as if preparing for battle. And a battle it was — being an anti-fan required more dedication, practice and patience than being a regular fan. What he didn’t realize was that he had knocked a water bottle off the table onto the frayed cord of his PC.

He couldn't fathom why people defended it as if their lives depended on it. If he ever met Stephenie Meyer, Jason would have a long talk with her about the plot—or rather, the lack thereof. With the number of plot holes in the books, they could qualify as swiss cheese. The inconsistencies were glaring: if sunlight made them sparkle, wouldn't they still sparkle during the day, just less brilliantly ? How did Jasper and Alice not overhear the phone call despite having super-hearing ? Why did Jasper go ballistic over a papercut when he attended a school where students would get paper cuts and scrapes all the time ? Why were vampires and werewolves the only species to exist ? And why was Bella, or more specifically her blood, so exceptional ? Did she perhaps descend from a line of flavourful blood havers or was it due to her mother's partial albinism ?

Was she special because she was the female lead, or was she the female lead because she was special ? There were so many unanswered questions and half-assed excuses for the events in the story that most explanations came from clever fans trying to make sense of things the author clearly put no effort into planning or thinking through. These questions had plagued him since he first read the series, and the lack of satisfying answers only fueled his irritation. So much so that Jason was embarrassed for the author. Regardless, he didn’t like the direction this conversation was going so he did what any intelligent person would do, i.e., spew hate comments and log off. 

edward_my_bbg : Dumbfuck novel, Dumbfuck author 

And as if on cue, a new notification popped up, dragging him back into the fray. It was another comment, this time mocking his apparent obsession with the series he claimed to hate. Jason’s face flushed with irritation as he furiously typed a retort, but before he could hit send, his screen flickered and went black. 

He looked down and realized the water bottle he had knocked over had short-circuited his PC. With a groan, Jason leaned back in his chair, staring at the dark screen. It seemed the universe had decided to give him a break from his self-imposed battle. His hand fumbled in the dark for the plug only to feel water on the surface. The sharp pain and crackle of electricity were the last things he knew before he plunged headfirst into endless darkness.

[Activation Code:「Dumbfuck Author, Dumbfuck Novel」 ]

[System activated] 

[Pairing command successful]

“What system ?” Jason asked out loud into the void even though he knew that it was most likely a figment of his imagination. He hadn’t expected to receive a reply however he did receive one much to his surprise. 

[Welcome to the system. During the opening of the 「you can you up」system currently in its development phase, we wish to provide you with the best experience. It is our sincere hope that during the process, you will achieve what you have stated: to transform a piece of stupid writing in accordance with your wishes into a high-end, expansive, and classic work. We wish you happiness.]

Jason blinked, trying to make sense of the message. He glanced around the dim room, half-expecting to see some kind of holographic interface or futuristic display but there was nothing. Just the voice in his head and the darkness. “What the hell is this ?” he muttered, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity.

[You have been selected to participate in the beta phase of the 「you can you up」 system. Your task is to improve the story you despise, turning it into a masterpiece. All resources and guidance will be provided to you. Do you accept this challenge ?]

Jason hesitated, the situation seemed absurd, yet a part of him was intrigued. As he sat in silence, a thought occurred to him—what if he could actually fix all the plot holes that drove him up a wall ? Maybe this was his chance to prove he could do better. But then, the possibility of all of this being real seemed too slim. How did he get here ? What happened to him after the electric shock? Was he dying, or was he already dead ? "And if I don't accept ?" he asked, uncertainty and fear bleeding into his voice despite his attempt at maintaining his composure. The system responded quickly in the same mechanical tone as before.

[Your connection between your former body and soul was severed before the initiation of the program. If you choose not to accept, you will be returned to your previous reality with no changes made. This opportunity is unique and will not be offered again.]

“Severed from my body ? Wait— doesn’t that mean I’ll die if I don’t accept ?” Jason's question hung in the air, met with nothing but silence from the system. The lack of response only confirmed his fear.

The system's silence was deafening, seemingly pressing him to make a decision. Realizing he had little choice, Jason took a deep breath. “Fine, I accept,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. How bad could it possibly be ? 

[Command acknowledged. Initializing story rewrite mode.]

The void around him began to shift and wrap. Till now he felt as though he was floating with no sensation except the system’s sound. His reality dissolved into swirling colours and Jason felt himself being pulled into a vortex. When the chaos settled, he heard a man’s voice call out to him. Unlike the clinical tone of system, this voice felt comforting and personal. He could feel tender warmth run through him however he couldn’t quite figure out what the voice was saying. 

“Son ? Can you hear me ?” 

“Dad ?” Jason murmured involuntarily, his voice hoarse as if he had just woken up from a long sleep. The gravel in the voice reminded him of the joys of his childhood when his dad was still — wait a second. Who the hell is that ?

His eyes struggled to focus as his eyelids fluttered a few times. Eventually, he was able to make out his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the ceiling. Unlike the damp ceiling of his old apartment with its peeling plaster and harsh lighting, this one had old glow-in-the-dark moon and star stickers. It wasn’t familiar, but it seemed oddly comforting, like he had known it all his life. He slowly turned his head and saw a middle-aged man sitting on a wheelchair beside him with concern clouding his face. The man's russet complexion was lined with wrinkles yet his hair was long and lustrous.

“Where am I ?” 

“You’re at home. You’ve been asleep for so long, it’s alright if you’re confused. Take your time son.” The man he called ‘dad’ answered sincerely.

Jason’s mind raced as he tried to piece together what had happened. The familiarity of the room and the comforting presence of the man didn’t align with the reality he remembered. In that moment, everything came back to him—his death, the void, the system, everything. Jason went into what could only be described as psychological shock. His brain went on autopilot.

The man reached out to grab Jason’s hand, but Jason flinched and pulled away. Slivers of hurt flashed in the old man’s eyes as he slowly withdrew his hand. Jason hadn’t meant to react so harshly, but the information dump combined with the influx of sensory input, he was simply too overwhelmed to cope.

“I-I think i need some space. Do you mind ?” Jason spoke each word carefully, then added, “...dad,” feeling strangely guilty for hurting his feelings. The old man nodded slowly and wheeled himself out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Jason jumped out of bed and ran to the mirror. "Who the FUCK is this?"

Staring back at him was a boy, fifteen or sixteen, with the same russet skin as the old man and glossy black hair that looked like it belonged in a shampoo commercial. Recognizing the features, Jason knew this could only be one person.

 [System activation successful ! Binding your role as : Jacob Black]

[System : Booting Up]

Jason, now Jacob Black, stared at his reflection in disbelief. The reality of his situation hit him like a shit ton of bricks. He brought his fist to his mouth and sobbed into it, and here he thought college was devastating. “But I’m Team Edward,” he choked out between sobs. “That’s so fucked up.”

[Thank you for initiating the execution of the system. You are not bound with the account ‘Jacob Black’. All resources and guidance will be provided to you in due time. Initial B points : 100]

Jason—Jacob—felt a rush of confusion and frustration. “Now what the hell are B points ?!” he yelled, his voice reverberating off the walls of the unfamiliar room. The loudness of his own voice startled him, making him realize just how different everything felt in this new body.

[As the plot progresses, a number of opportunities to gain more points will be available. Please make sure your B points are not lower than 0. Otherwise, the system will automatically impose penalties.]

He stumbled back from the mirror, running a hand through his hair, which was definitely longer and thicker than he remembered. He could feel the strength in his limbs, the vitality of youth coursing through him. Yet, despite the physical vigor, his mind was in turmoil. He had transmigrated into the very novel he hated; the universe always seemed to have a field day when it came to ruining his life. Jacob looked around the room that was littered with the relics of a life he had to now live — a cozy bed with rumpled sheets, a desk cluttered with schoolbooks and posters of motorcycles, bands and scenic landscapes on the walls.

“Um, so is Bella here ?” Jacob asked, scarfing down the bacon his dad made for him. Despite stressing over the role he was supposed to play in the story, he quickly adapted to his new life. He had a family, a house to live in, no worries about finding employment, no bills or taxes, a social life—or at least he assumed he had one—and, most importantly, no backaches. In hindsight, this might not be all that bad.

“Oh, you remember that ? Charlie said she’s arriving in a couple of days,” his dad, Billy, replied. Jacob felt a strange mix of anticipation and relief. Unlike most unfortunate transmigratees, he had no death flags to worry about, so he could sit back and watch Bella and Edward fall in love without “Jacob” interrupting them. Maybe he could even make things easier for Bella by acting like the perfect wingman. Who cared about making a better story anyway ? And once he had seen his OTP together, he could take his ticket out of town after the wedding and never return so that he could avoid the whole Renesmee business because some fates are worse than death.

[WARNING: Your plan is extremely dangerous and constitutes a violation. Please do not attempt it, or the system will impose strict penalties.]

Jacob choked on his water as the sudden warning window popped up in front of him. For a moment, he was so immersed in the domestic comfort of his new life that he almost forgot about the cursed system. His father looked at him with concern.

“Water went down the wrong pipe, that’s all. Nothing to worry about,” Jacob said awkwardly, trying to reassure his father. So you can read minds now ? He internally taunted the system.

[It is a feature designed to ensure maximum support for the user.]

“That’s bullshit. Also, what do you mean by violation ?” Jacob asked. Does this system really have no respect for privacy ? If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was some kind of Zuckerberg’s meta gimmick.

[You are currently at the beginning stage. OOC function freeze is activated. You must complete the beginning stage before any functions can be unlocked. If you perform any actions against the original ‘Jacob Black’ role before the functions are unfrozen, a certain number of B points will be deducted.]

Given his extensive time spent on the internet, Jacob was well aware of what OOC meant, and he knew it wasn’t a good sign. OOC stood for Out Of Character, referring to actions taken by a role that deviated from how the character was originally written.

“FUCK OFF. I’m an adult. I already finished my degree and Bella is like, a baby. And you can forget the whole Renesmee shit too. Bella belongs with Edward and and I have no intention of pursuing either her or her future daughter. So back off, you creep of a system.”

[WARNING: The system is issuing another alert. If your B points fall below 0, you will incur a penalty, which involves being automatically transported back to your original world.]

“You know, threatening me with death is really getting old,” Jacob stared at the warning message with his anger mounting. It felt like the system was encroaching on every aspect of his new life, imposing rules and restrictions without offering any clarity or real support.

He took a deep breath, trying to push past his irritation. There was no point in arguing with an automated system, especially one that clearly had its own agenda. Jacob decided to focus on what he could control. He needed to immerse himself in his role as Jacob Black and complete the introductory stage without attracting undue attention. The system’s warnings might be annoying, but he couldn’t let them derail his efforts to adapt to his new life.

As he finished his breakfast, Jacob glanced around the house. It was warm and welcoming, albeit a little messy, which was understandable. He and his dad were the only ones living there and according to his dad, he had been inexplicably unconscious for almost a week. Keeping the house tidy wasn't exactly a priority for a man worried sick about his son.

“Thanks for breakfast… Dad,” Jacob said, still not used to the idea of having a father again. There was the whole issue of stealing the real “Jacob” ’s life, dealing with imposter syndrome, and the guilt of replacing the memory of his own father by calling this old man his dad. But that was an existential crisis he chose not to mull over at the moment, especially on the precipice of the story's start. Call him selfish, but he preferred to focus on his blessings.

“I’ll go take a walk. I’ve been asleep for a while, so I need to… uh, stretch my legs,” Jacob said awkwardly, hoping Billy wouldn’t notice anything strange about his behavior.

“Sure thing, son. Also grab some red meat from the store for dinner. A growing kid like you needs that protein. And buy yourself something nice with the leftover money,” Billy replied, taking out his wallet and handing him some cash.

Jacob stared at the man in awe. As a kid who had bounced around the foster system after his dad died, he was used to being scorned and neglected. This might be part of the reason why he had become a social recluse, spending his time bashing bad literature and authors online. To him, Billy Black was the closest thing he had ever seen to an angel.

Jacob took the money, still feeling a bit dazed. “Thanks, Dad,” he managed to say, pocketing the cash. The air filling his lungs was much fresher than the pollution-riddled air of the city he used to live in. Nature seemed a lot nicer than he remembered. So, here's a lesson for the kids—don’t wait until you die and get transmigrated into a novel you hate to understand the importance of getting outside and appreciating nature. In short, go touch some fucking grass before it’s too late.

Almost as if by instinct he found himself at La Push beach. He wandered through the familiar yet new surroundings, trying to piece together his plan. If he was going to be stuck in this world, he might as well make the best of it. He thought about the story and mentally reviewed his plan. He would stay under the radar, be friendly but unobtrusive and focus on blending in with the locals. If he played his cards right, he might just manage to navigate this strange new life without getting points deducted by the system’s restrictions.

After strolling along the shore for a while, Jacob found a rock to sit on and watch the ocean. It was a stark contrast to the urban jungle he was accustomed to, this place was serene and almost idyllic.

“Ayo, is that Jacob ? Hey, Jake !” he heard someone call out. A moment later, a boy close to his age ran up to him, followed by one more. “Um, hey guys. How’s it... going ?” Socializing wasn’t one of Jacob’s strong suits; in fact, it was the exact opposite of the skill he had meticulously avoided developing over the years.

“Man, the whole crew was freaking out about you. You were out cold for a week and for no reason !” One thing Jacob appreciated about the system was the introduction tags above each character’s head. The boy speaking was named Quil, his cousin from the Quileute tribe. He knew these interactions were unavoidable, given their significance to his new role in the plot.

“Well, I got better ?” Jacob attempted a witty quip but cringed at how poorly it landed. To his surprise, the two boys just laughed. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Stop by Sam’s sometime; he’s been asking about you,” Embry said, giving Jacob a friendly slap on the shoulder.

“Wait Sam ? Right of course. Duh. Sam’s place. Got it.” Jacob replied, blinking in confusion for a moment. Sam Uley was the Alpha—or at least the to-be Alpha—of the pack Jacob was supposed to join during New Moon.

[Mild OOC warning]

“Ay man, you feeling okay ?” Embry asked again, noticing Jacob’s hesitation. Jacob froze, Embry Call was the real Jacob’s best friend and if he figured out that Jason wasn’t really Jacob, it would spell massive trouble for him.

Jacob forced a smile. “Uh, yeah. I just—” He quickly tried to think of something. What would Jacob Black say in this situation ? What does he do to feel better ? He racked his brain for answers, knowing he needed to play the part convincingly, at least till he found a way to unfreeze the OOC function.

Go bother Bella ? a small voice suggested. Bella’s not here yet dumbass, another voice countered sharply. After years of social isolation, Jason’s inner dialogue had evolved to the point where he could have entire discussions with himself. No, he wasn’t schizophrenic.

“—I was just going to grab some red meat to chow on and uh y’know, work on my bike,” he finished, hoping his voice didn’t betray his nerves.

Embry and Quil exchanged a knowing look, which made Jacob's anxiety spike only to burst into laughter. “Classic Jake. At this rate, you might end up marrying your bike,” Quil teased and Jacob laughed along, though he desperately wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out again.

“Just take it easy, yeah ? We don’t want you passing out on us again. By the way, there's a sale at the store on the other side of town,” Embry squeezed Jacob’s shoulder reassuringly again. The familiarity they seemed to share with him was comforting, even if he felt like an imposter. He knew he had to get up to speed quickly if he wanted to maintain this facade. They soon parted ways and Jacob headed towards the store.

The store lady was overly enthusiastic upon seeing Jacob. He couldn’t tell if it was because of his face or the fact that he was a regular. As Jason, he had always been below average in looks and physique. Whereas, by the virtue of being the second male lead of a popular teenage romance novel, Jacob Black was undeniably attractive. With his deep-set dark eyes, prominent cheekbones, and beautiful long hair, he looked like someone Jason would have envied. Maybe he could try his hand at modeling once the story ended, because there was no way he was putting himself through college again.

And as unpredictable as the weather of Forks was, it began to rain. Normally, Jason would wait it out and then go but now that he as in Jacob’s body, he thought to test his body’s limits. Like c’mon a little drizzle isn’t going to hurt a big strong werewolf alpha-to-be. He stepped out into the rain, feeling the cool droplets on his skin. It was refreshing, almost invigorating. Jacob’s body seemed to handle the cold and wet far better than Jason’s ever did. As he made his way back the store, he noticed people giving him friendly nods and waves. It felt strange to be acknowledged so warmly, a stark contrast to the anonymity he was used to.

At the red light he stopped, waiting for it to turn green. Sure, there were no cars around and he could have just walked, but road rules were no joke. He liked this life too much to risk having it taken away by truck-kun. “Hey system, is double isekai a thing?” he asked. The system didn’t reply, so that was probably a no.

Jacob glanced to his side and saw a person standing under a large black umbrella. A strong sweet scent pricked his nose. How strong does this guy’s cologne have to be to reach me even with the rain ? There was a name tag hovering above the person’s head, but it was obscured by the umbrella, as was his face. One thing he had learned was that only people relevant to the story had name tags over their heads, which meant this person was a character in the story. He looked down at the stranger’s hand—it looked like porcelain.

Jacob felt a sense of foreboding, creeping up his veins. His instincts were on high alert, telling him that this stranger was no ordinary person. The rain began to pour harder, each drop bouncing off the asphalt with increasing intensity.

The person probably noticed Jacob staring and as he did, the umbrella tilted slightly, revealing a glimpse of a pale, almost ethereal face with piercing golden eyes. The moment their gazes met, Jacob was momentarily blinded by a brilliant golden aura radiating from the name tag above the person’s head.

[Edward Cullen]

Jacob’s heart skipped a beat. Of course, it had to be Edward. What were the odds of encountering your favorite character on the very first day of your new life ? He felt his knees weaken. Despite the dim lighting and gloomy setting, Edward was undeniably striking. The rain seemed to fall more slowly around him, as if even the weather was reluctant to mar his flawlessness . His tousled bronze hair framed his face perfectly and Jacob felt an inexplicable urge to reach out and touch it. Despite all his criticisms of the novel, Edward had always held a special place in his heart for reasons Jacob couldn’t quite explain.

Damn, this mf looks anemic as hell. Maybe I should feed him. It was a half-serious thought, borne from both concern and his internal struggle to reconcile his feelings towards the character with the reality of his situation.

[OOC WARNING! OOC WARNING!]

[Edward Cullen is your enemy.]

“Fuck off, he’s my babygirl,”Jacob shot a mental retort at the system in exasperation and a streak of protectiveness. The system’s declaration that Edward was an enemy wasn’t misplaced given Jacob’s role in the novel but that didn’t mean it wasn’t at odds with his feelings.

Edward had always been his favorite character, a source of fascination and admiration. This was supposed to be his chance to explore and perhaps even improve upon the narrative, not to be embroiled in conflict with a character he held dear.

Jacob didn't even notice when the light turned green and Edward started walking away, his steps soundless on the wet pavement. Acting on impulse or perhaps some hidden desire, Jacob found himself walking towards Edward and grabbing his elbow, accidentally knocking his umbrella aside. Edward stopped and turned to him as the rain continued to soak them both. His gaze was like a sharp, unyielding beam of light, cutting through the rain. His eyes, an unusual shade of golden amber, held a depth that seemed to pierce directly into Jacob's soul, scrutinizing every hidden corner of his being.

[OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC!]

[EDWARD CULLEN IS YOUR ENEMY]

I’m so stupid — I forgot completely. Jacob and Edward haven’t met yet. Maybe… maybe I can salvage this ? Be a dick and still be nice ? He definitely didn’t want to end up on Edward’s bad side, nor did he want to break the system’s rules. Annoying as it was, the system was what kept him alive. Though he’d never say it out loud, he was terrified at the thought of dying, again. The system’s constant reminders of their supposed enmity were starting to grate on him, but he couldn’t afford to make more mistakes. What was a man to do when every choice seemed fraught with peril ?

Ack — he’s staring. Can he hear my thoughts ? I hope not. He and Bella meet soon, if I remember correctly so— Jacob’s anxiety skyrocketed under the weight of that gaze. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat drumming in his ears. A tight knot of dread twisted in his stomach and whether it was the rain or not, he could feel cold sweat forming on his palms. He needed to say something—anything—that wouldn’t completely derail the plot but also wouldn’t make Edward hate him from the start, even if it was inevitable.

“Oh uh — my bad, dude. I just thought you looked kinda sick so I thought — I mean,” Jacob scrambled for an explanation, forcing a nonchalant tone as he released Edward’s elbow. He felt like a small animal trapped in the headlights of an oncoming car, desperately searching for a way to escape unscathed.

“—Uh, here.” He shoved the raw steak he had just bought into Edward’s arms. The system fell silent for a moment, as stunned by his actions as Jacob was. The sound of the rain was almost deafening as awkward silence stretched between them. Edward looked down at the raw steak in his hands, confusion and surprise painting his features.

Without waiting for a reply, Jacob quickly turned on his heel and hurried away, his footsteps splashing through the rain-soaked pavement. “Later ! Get that iron up and be the lady killer you were born to be !” he called over his shoulder. After walking a few metres, he paused briefly and added,“ And seriously lay off the sauvage man !”

As he put more distance between them, Jacob’s thoughts began to spiral. What had he just done ? Did Edward think he was completely nuts ? Or worse, could Edward have read his thoughts and seen through his facade ? Jacob shuddered at the possibility.

[Why did you do that ?]

“I don’t know okay !? I thought it’d help with looking y’know less dead when he meets Bella.” He shrugged. Explaining himself to the system felt pointless considering it was neither his parent nor his babysitter. The system remained silent, as if considering his response, Jacob rolled his eyes.

[OOC ! -20 B points ↓ ↓ ↓]

“Oh come on !”

“Still staring at that bag of steak, Ed ?” The pixie-haired woman leaned over her brother’s shoulder, teasing him.

“Go away, Alice,” Edward muttered, his gaze still locked on the steak as if it held some profound answers of the universe. His fingers occasionally running over the plastic, making the blood inside to squelch against the surface.

“Seriously what’s up with you ?” Alice frowned, dropping the banter. Ever since Edward had returned, he’d been fixated on this bag of steak that suspiciously smelled like wet dog. What was even more peculiar was the fact that she hadn’t had any visions of this event. Normally, Alice caught glimpses of all the interesting things happening with her family throughout the day but she had no clue how Edward had ended up with that steak. And from the look on his face, Edward didn’t look like he was divulging anything either.

“Nothing just… trying to figure someone out.” Edward sighed. Alice was his favorite family member, and he seldom told her off but this was something he couldn’t even make sense of himself. If he told Alice, she’d likely blow the whole thing out of proportion. But despite everything, one question kept lingering in his mind.

Who was that man ?

A.n - should I make this into a series ? If yes please lemme know if you want to be added to the taglist.

[celestialprincesse]

Simon w/ his black cat GF🐈‍⬛🖤

She's def a cat lover and prefers her cat to pretty much everyone. A total introvert, which he's totally drawn to because she's as quietly clever and judgemental as he is.

She brings out his golden retriever loverboy side, which no one's done before, and all of his friends are utterly perplexed by how whipped he is.

He wants her because she's so unattainable and unbothered by him - like yes she thinks he's sexy as fuck and wants to climb him like a tree, but she's not gonna give his big ass Lieutenant ego that boost.

She's lowkey a little weird, a little unnerving, and she loves it. Most guys approach her and are very swiftly deterred by her intentionally unsettling vibe - Simon though? This man likes a challenge, especially one as pretty as her.

He thinks her general unbothered-ness and confidence in herself is really, really fucking sexy.

She also likes how he's still reasonably dominant in their relationship, likes how it gives her the space to be bratty and intentionally rile Simon up just so that he'll put her in her place, unlike her exes who pulled the whole "Why are you mad at me?🥺" shpiel. She hated that shit.

Simon? Yeah, no, he's perfectly happy to stuff his fingers in her mouth or give her a firm slap on the ass when she runs her mouth, loves the way her eyes go wide in surprise before she settles back into him, smiling when he presses little kisses into her hair with a quiet "There's my girl. Gonna behave f'me?"

Her cat loves him too, comes and settles on his lap when he sits on the couch whilst she showers or something and he just doesn't know how to react. He's a dog person, but he has to admit that her little snaggletoothed black rescue cat is kinda cute.

At the beginning of their relationship she tries not to be super clingy, but eventually gives up and is just super begrudgingly needy for him. She would ideally like to live in his skin or be actually physically attached to him at all times but she'll settle for perpetually sitting on his lap or having him carry her around the house like a koala.

[ddarker-dreams]

Could you do the current husband trio with cuteness aggression please? <3333

a request after my own heart ...

chrollo gets it out of his system by teasing you. his teasing comes in multiple flavors, some more subtle than others. for an immoral thief, his self-control is impressive. he likes to see where riling you up will go. especially if you reciprocate in kind. the verbal cat-and-mouse excites him as much as a heist. after denying himself long enough, he’ll pull you into his lap, chuckling as he says ‘don’t get so cross, darling,’ into your neck. good luck freeing yourself from his grasp. once he has you, you won’t be going anywhere until he feels generous enough to share. his visage remains relaxed, but his eyes betray the thrill you give him; they’re shining, with your reflection at the center.

satoru wouldn’t take his hands off you if his life depended on it. nope, you and everyone in the immediate vicinity get to witness how smitten he is. he’s mean though — he can’t just scoop you up and twirl you around. no, he has to creep up on you for the bonus of hearing you squeak. he’s grinning like a madman as you chastise him, peppering your face with kisses, each one accompanied by an exaggerated ‘muah.’ he gives the hand you’re halfheartedly pushing him away with the same treatment. it’s almost enough for him to burst at the seams when he puts you down (this step may require some begging on your part). especially because you’re fighting off a smile of your own so as not to encourage his mischievous behavior. satoru rectifies this by squishing your cheeks into a smile. if there’s anything he excels at, it’s getting what he wants.

scaramouche places heavy emphasis on ‘aggression.’ his sharp tongue directs no shortage of insults your way, although they lack their usual barbed nature. you get the sense that he struggles to know how else to interact with you. it’s humiliating! the sound of your name alone has him perking up like some mutt. he loathes what you’ve reduced him to. scara inadvertently perpetuates the cycle he claims he wants to be free from. he acts condescending, then finds your frustration so cute, that his brain temporarily short-circuits. the resulting embarrassment adds to his cruelty as a flimsy smokescreen. he’s mortified that your miffed expression made him so tempted to squeeze you. how could his pride ever recover from such a blow? then you’d know how fond of you he is, a most egregious notion.

blade denies himself until he can't. the phenomenon perplexes the poor man. he'd sooner endure every physical agony in the universe than harm a hair on your head, so why can’t he suppress these urges? and oh, when you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him, he almost goes feral. his hands twitch with the desire to just… hold you. right against his chest, tight enough that his ribs might break. it’d be so easy and he’s running out of excuses not to do it. he knows he’s intimidating; he doesn’t want to accidentally frighten you off. he really would be a dead man walking without you to breathe life into him. once you encourage him that he can take what he wants from you, then, well, you have an intergalactic criminal who is impossible to pry off.

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

Draft 2 - Chapter 4 complete

9.5k/100k

Snippet below the cut:

"If you don't wish to go, I can't force you," Orval's words pull Sasha from his thoughts. "but if you manage to awaken this God in Astra Lacuna, he would be a powerful ally at your side. A God... owing a human a favour."

That's an undeniably tempting proposition, but it must come with some caveats.

"I'm assuming that will be harder than it sounds. Waking up a God, I mean."

"Perhaps not as easy as you would like, but not impossible either. If you bring him to where stars perpetually fall from the sky and speak to him, he will wake from his slumber."

Sasha asks, "What would I even say to him?"

"What you do with any God you worship, you pray to him."

If only it is as straigthforward as Orval claims, worshiping any God at any time, no loyalty needed, no sacrifices made.

"I'm a follower of Lady Odila, my piety belongs to her."

Orval only raises his eyebrows, looking mildly perplexed, and all he says is, "Interesting."

Sasha doubles down as for some reason Orval doesn't believe him. "I'm loyal to her and her alone."

He holds up his hand to stop Sasha. "I understand," a glint of pearly white teeth shines in the dark, "seeing as you're a faithful follower of Odila, I will offer you a deal... that's how it works with her, is it not?"

Sasha nods begrudgingly.

"Unlike hers, my deals are fair and true and don't change when it's time to pay up," Orval says with a disgruntled tone that speaks of experience, "If you go to Astra Lacuna and awaken this God, not one, but two Gods will be indebted to you."

"Who else?" Sasha asks.

Orval's smile widens, his lavender eyes practically glow. "Me."

Taglist: @eatinghemlocks, @foxgloves-garden, @sarandipitywrites, @northwyrm, @trixierosewrites,

@walkman-cat, @asher-writes, @seastarblue, @aloeverawrites, @firesidefantasy

@tracle0, @thelaughingstag, @nekrops-shaped, @frantheram, @cacophonyofwords

@sunshineomeara, @zonnemaagd, @cheeto-flavoured-pasta, @inadequatecowboy

[mossy-covered-bones]

My mothers cringefail little boy (her tuxedo cat who is the Only Man Ever) is so dumb that him doing Normal Cat Activities is an event to be celebrated. Like the first time he managed to figure out how to get a piece of shrimp Into His Mouth instead of hust licking it sadly. Or the first time he loafed. Or any time he grooms himself. His pupils are almost always massive and he bears an expression of perpetual perplexment

[bookworms-haven]

JOMP BPC: Sarcastic Asshole

In "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" by Lewis Carroll, the Cheshire Cat emerges as the quintessential sarcastic character, often coming across as a bit of an asshole. His enigmatic and mocking demeanour is coupled with a perpetual, knowing grin that only adds to his air of condescension. When Alice seeks directions, his flippant and perplexing responses, such as "We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad," serve to confuse and frustrate her rather than help. His sarcastic remarks highlight the absurdity and chaos of Wonderland, often leaving Alice questioning her sanity. The Cheshire Cat’s sardonic attitude and cryptic advice encapsulate the whimsical yet unsettling nature of Carroll’s fantastical world.

[bugsnax]

everyone sleeps in the same bedroll

all the townspeople are perpetually perplexed on your relationship with each other. i feel as though astarion specifically does nothing to help anyone with this

everyone keeps lae'zel and shart separate from each other at all costs, like two cats who literally just refuse to get along no matter how much you try to socialize them

you all tap in and out of combat by smackin each other on the ass and saying "go get em champ" like a football team

thank you for coming to my ted talks

i think that without polyamory, larian is depriving us of the most ideal optimal way to play bg3 in which you create the worlds most weird and unnerving polycule with all the tadpole havers + halsin

[stemms]

It’s absolutely hilarious to me that c!Dream apologists genuinely believe that c!Dream, the man who was infatuated with power to the point of rejecting all his attachments, only to form a perpetual fixation on c!Tommy, completely contradicting his previous beliefs in consequence, never had a hint of obsession, only hated him and cared about his discs instead. I happen to have practically all the c!Prime quotes from season 0 that express c!Dream’s obsession better than anything, so I’d like to go through them and reflect on c!Dream apologists’ takes.

This had been said a lot of times before, but it still perplexes me to this day how flexible c!Dream apologists’ opinion on the canonicity of the lore is, depending solely on its representation of c!Dream; as long as it makes him look good, it’s undoubtedly canon (the fact that it only works if they villainise c!Tommy shows just how flawed and inoperative it is), though if it’s the opposite, it conveniently changes to “it was clear they were messing around, those streams didn’t even have proper lore.” 

“c!Tommy was the one who built the tunnel leading to c!Dream’s house, but people tried to make it into a creepy c!Primeboys thing. c!Dream never stalked him.”

c!Tommy: “Let's head back to my HQ, I bet he'll be way over- he'll [c!Dream] be lurking in the walls!”  c!Tubbo: “He probably will, you know?”

c!Tubbo: "I was right! I was right! He's in the walls!”  c!Tommy: “Oh- why is he always in the walls?! Why is he always here?!”

c!Tommy: “And all he [c!Dream] does, Wilbur, is sit in my walls, staring at me.”

c!Tommy: “Let's walk, Tubbo. We walk- watch it- watch as he follows.”

c!Tommy: “He [c!Dream] just follows us around, boys!” 

c!Fundy: “He’s [c!Dream] targeting you!” 

c!Fundy, taking the path near c!Tommy’s house: “Why is- D-Dream? Dream!” 

c!Fundy, talking about the clip: “I mean, Dream is right next to you-” 

c!Fundy: “Hey, uh- not to warn you, but Dream is like- ten blocks away from you hiding. I can see him sneaking from here.” 

c!Fundy: “Uh- Dream is, like, very close to you right now.” 

c!Tommy: “I know, he just sits and sits in my walls and stares at me.” 

c!Fundy: “Talking about stalkers- Dweeeam, where are you?” 

c!Tommy: “Why is he always in the walls?? Oh my god-” 

c!Fundy: “I see- I see Dream!” c!Tommy: “Ohhh, why is he always just- hello, Dream…” 

c!Tommy: “No! No! No! We do not mess with him, we just accept he’s in de walls forever.” 

c!Tommy: “I don’t know why there’s a hole in my roof.”

In addition to these quotes, a reminder that:

c!Dream was the one who built a tunnel towards c!Tommy’s house to spy on him.

c!Dream lived in c!Tommy’s walls.

c!Dream prevented c!Tommy from getting any discs other than Cat and Mellohi when he tried to make a disc farm, for no other reason than to make him more dependent on those two discs; if he had control over them, he’d have control over c!Tommy too.

c!Dream logged off in the jukebox room to steal the disc as soon as it began playing.

c!Dream often inserted himself between c!Tommy and his friends, as if he was a part of their company.

c!Dream blew up and vandalized people’s property and stole from them with c!Puffy, and left signs indicating it was c!Tommy.

c!Dream provoked c!Tommy into acting on his emotions, so that it would be easier to put exile forward.

Not to mention this absurdly big amount of screenshots of c!Dream appearing conveniently at the same places and time as c!Tommy.

[jimin-jungshook-over-literalbae]

Blinding Lights Chapter Four

Hey guys, sorry about my impromptu break. The whole thing about Moonbin broke me. I had to step away for a bit. I didn’t want to write. Astro has always been my comfort group so I was struggling. I’m excited to get back into writing though. I hope you guys enjoy the new installment and thanks for all of the positive feedback!

Hybrids: Munchkin Cat Reader (Omega), Fox Jin (Omega), Panther Yoongi (Alpha), Golden Retriever Hoseok (Beta), Wolf Namjoon (Alpha), Calico Cat Jimin (Omega), Tiger Taehyung (Beta), Bunny Jungkook (Beta)

Masterlist

Word Count: 3534

Description: Y/N has spent the past seven years trapped in a hole in the floor. Forced in horrible situations she wished nothing more than to escape. When escape presents itself in the form of a group of seven hybrids, surely she must have finally snapped. Now, she has to figure out how a normal life works after being trapped in perpetual hell with her suddenly appearing mates.

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

Waking up sandwiched between Yoongi and Hoseok is warm and comfortable. Hoseok has flipped onto his back, I’m curled into his side and Yoongi is wrapped around my back. My cheek rests on Hoseok’s chest. Hoseok’s hand comes up to rest on my head, his fingers combing through my hair.

“Good Morning,” I whisper softly, glancing up at him.

“Good Morning, Sweet Girl,” His lips whisper across my hair.

We lay together for a while, whispering back and forth so we don’t wake Yoongi. He tells me stories of his time with the boys, some funny, some much less so. It helps me learn a lot about some of the other boys, specifically Namjoon and Jin, who I had spent the least amount of time with. They both seem to be rather busy, most of the time.

“So, Taehyung has a job? Like, how Jin has his own job? Where it isn’t involved in whatever it is you guys do?” I give him a perplexed look. He chuckles at my expression.

“Yeah. He works at an Art Museum. He does tours and sometimes, they let him display and sell his own pieces. That’s why he has an art studio. He goes through spurts of creating and he hasn’t been sleeping much because of it. He’s working hard,” His finger dances across my cheek, his touch soft and light.

“Hmm. That’s cool. It suits him. He is kind of like that hermit artist boyfriend that no one quit sure exists until they perceive him,” Yoongi’s arms tighten around me, his lips whispering against my neck.

“That was a lot of big words for this early in the morning,” Yoongi’s sleepy voice brushes along my neck, sending shivers down my spine as he noses my scent gland. A knock at the door interrupts the moment.

“Time to get up, babies. The cleaning crew is going to be here soon so we need to get breakfast in us. Jin just called out and got some take out so clean up will be easy,” Namjoon’s head sticks in the cracked door,” Is Tae with you guys?”

“No, just us three in here last night,” Hoseok gives him a confused look. Something about the question makes me uneasy.

“I’ll look for him. You guys go eat. I’m not really hungry yet,” I untangle myself from the boys and give Hoseok a quick kiss on the cheek, followed by a quick peck to Yoongi. I try not to get self conscious that all eyes are on me. I hop up and make my way to the door.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon’s words are worried as he opens the door further to let me out.

“Yeah. I don’t know if I can be down there right now. I’d rather look for Tae,” I pat his arm as I slip past. The first place I look is his art studio. When I open the door, I can’t help but gasp.

Smashed canvases litter the floor, some with various paintings on them. The pottery wheels we had used are over turned and crushed. A glance to the right shows a trashed supplies closet, various paints and clay and paint brushes decorate the floor, creating a huge mess. In the middle of the room, Taehyung kneels on the floor, his hands pressed to the floor and silent sobs racking through his body. His lips press together in an attempt to silence them.

“Oh, baby,” I approach him cautiously in case he doesn’t want me near, kneeling in front of him and wiping the tears from his face.

“They’re ruined,” His voice is broken and small, choked by tears,” My whole exhibition is ruined. They were going to let me have my own temporary installment but all of my work is gone.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” My fingers furiously wipe away every tear that falls. Tae’s cool scent is almost nonexistent, a ashy smell instead permeating the air. I run my fingers through his hair and pull him closer, wrapping my arms around him. His face buries in my neck as he unleashes his sobs,” I won’t tell you it’s going to be okay. I don’t know if there will ever be a time you’re okay with it. But I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Use me to hide until you feel like you’ll be okay.”

With some maneuvering, his face never leaving my neck, Taehyung sits cross legged on the floor with me in his lap. I hum quietly, running my fingers through his hair and just holding him. It’s only when his sobs begin to slow that the door bursts open. Jimin comes barreling through the door, a bag in his hand. His eyes widen when he realizes that Taehyung is crying and he drops the bag, his cinnamon apple scent wafting through the air.

“Tae-“ Jimin seems lost for words as he takes in the destruction. He sits behind Taehyung, wrapping his arms around him, his face nestled between Tae’s shoulder blades. Taehyung leans back into him, his sobs finally lessening into small whimpers. We remain silent as his head grows heavier and heavier on my shoulder. When his breathing evens out, that’s when I realize that he has fallen asleep.

“Jimin, you were supposed to be up here making sure they ate,” Hoseok’s tone is a joking scold as he steps into the room,” Aweeee, look at our cute little Omegas taking care of our Beta.”

Hoseok ruffles Jimin and I’s hair, causing me to blush. He reaches between the two of us and lifts Taehyung surprisingly easily. Namjoon hands me the forgotten bag on the floor, the food probably long cold. I eat a little bit but I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t hungry. Flashes of yesterday still flash through my mind. Holding Tae is the only time that I couldn’t feel that moment overwhelming me. It seems that being in my mate’s arms calms my still panicked Omega. She keeps thinking that our mates will begin to hate us, that Tae will begin to hate us because it’s our fault his studio was trashed.

“You should eat a little more, baby girl. The cleaners are gonna be here soon. It’s gonna be a long day,” Namjoon sits on the floor beside me, taking the partially eaten breakfast sandwich from my hand and holding it up to my mouth. Something about our Alpha feeding us has my Omega purring. I eat a few more bites before gently pushing his wrist away.

“I don’t wanna get sick,” I gnaw on my bottom lip, my hands falling in my lap,” Do you think Tae will be mad at me?”

“What do you mean?” His eyebrows furrow in confusion. I quickly look down at my hands, my thumbs twisting together.

“It’s my fault his studio was trashed,” My voice is small,” They were looking for me. Maybe if-“

“Hey,” His fingers close around my chin, bringing my eyes up to his,” Get out of that head of yours. No one is mad. This isn’t your fault. None of this is. You didn’t trash his studio. I would much rather have a trashed house and you still here and breathing than a clean house and no you. Tae would feel the same.”

“We all do,” Jungkook pipes up. I jump a little, not realizing he was there,” The cleaners are here. We should vacate the room for now. Did we decide what we were gonna do for the day?”

“I hadn’t gotten that far. We thought you might like to go out with us for the day. Maybe have a little date,” Namjoon’s dimpled smile eases some of my tension at the idea,” Hoseok should have Tae ready to leave soon. He’s going to need a distraction for the day, anyway.”

“So, shopping at the big mall then? And the art supply store so he we can get him anything he needs to restock?” Jungkook pulls out his phone,” Is there anywhere else we need to go? Everyone’s going right? We all took the next few days off, right?”

“Whoa, slow down,” Namjoon stands and gathers the trash,” We could probably make a day of it. Get dinner, see a movie, maybe go to that arcade you and Jungkook wanted to go to. That should do it, I think. Try to keep it simple but give them enough time to get everything cleaned up.”

“Time to get the baby ready then. I volunteer!” Jungkook slips his phone back him his pocket and turns his attention to me. I quirk an eyebrow at him.

“You do know that I’m older than you, right?” I finally stand, stretching up on my toes for a second to loosen the tense muscles.

“No way, you’re way too tiny to be older than me,” Jungkook gives me an incredulous look. I roll my eyes.

“I’m a munchkin cat, of course I’m short. I’m the same age as Jimin, from what Hoseok said. That being said, I don’t think I need help picking out an outfit… unless you think I’m going to embarrass you,” I didn’t mean to include the last comment but the words flowed out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“No, never baby,” Jungkook steps closer, his hands coming up to cup my cheeks,” I just wanted an excuse to spend time with you.”

“Why don’t we all go get ready? It’s gonna be a long day,” Namjoon suggests. We all disperse, heading to our rooms to get clothes and change. If we’re going to be busy, I decide on a cute but comfortable outfit. A simple dress, some leggings, and some boots. I grab my phone from my night stand and shove it in a small purse that the boys had gotten me. It feels weird being in normal clothes. Some days, it’s like I’m back seven years ago and I’m just a normal girl. I feel anxious as I make my way downstairs. I can’t look in the direction of the kitchen. My arms wrap around myself, my body shaking slightly.

“Come here, pretty girl,” Jin smiles brightly at me, opening his arms. I enter them without thinking, my Omega begging for comfort. The comfort from another Omega always hits differently. She purrs as I nuzzle my face into his chest. It doesn’t take long for everyone to gather downstairs. One look at Taehyung’s face has me leaving Jin’s arms and wrapping my arms around him. I scent him gently, hoping to help him feel a little better. He clutches me to him tightly.

We disperse into two different SUVs. I sit cuddled into Taehyung’s lap with Jimin plastered against his side. Yoongi is driving with Hoseok acting as his navigator. Jungkook drives the other car with Namjoon and Jin. The mall we pull up to is massive. My eyes widen at the sight. We get out and Jin immediately kidnaps Taehyung, saying something about spoiling his baby boy. Yoongi stops in front of Jimin and I, holding out a black rectangle to me. I take it hesitantly.

“In case you find something you want. We’ve been meaning to give you one anyway,” In my hand lays a credit card.

“But I-“ I want to tell him that I didn’t contribute any money to it but he stops me.

“Everyone has one. Trust me, we make more than enough money, sweetheart,” He gives me a wink before turning back to the group. Jimin’s hand wraps around mine, a big smile on his face.

“Come on. It’ll be fun,” I trail behind Jimin, already feeling slightly overwhelmed at all the new smells. Jimin and I trail behind everyone else, his cheerful talking keeping me distracted from getting overwhelmed.

“Oooo, come on, this one is my favorite,” Jimin begins to drag me away from the group toward some high end, name brand store.

“Shouldn’t we say something?” I glance back at the rest of the boys as they continue on to a different store.

“Nah, we usually all split off to different stores. We just have to make sure there’s more than one person,” Jimin pulls me through the door and into the store. We browse the clothing and accessories. He picks out multiple things holds them up to me but the price tag is a bit of a deterrent. Plus, they’ve bought me so many things, I don’t want to spend anymore money on me. That’s when my idea blooms.

I move to the accessories section while Jimin looks at more clothes. There are necklaces, rings, and other various jewels in cases. Hoseok, Yoongi, and Jungkook wear a lot of rings. I worry about them not being the right size but something about a few certain rings speaks to me. As I’m picking them out and paying for them, a certain smell catches my attention, sending fear shooting up my spine. I take my bag and quickly thank the cashier before running to look for Jimin.

I find him cornered, a large Alpha, obviously in rut, has him trapped in the corner. His eyes meet mine, his expression nervous. I look around for some kind of weapon but there doesn’t seem to be anything of much use around. The Alpha hasn’t noticed me yet, seeming to have honed in on Jimin. Alpha’s in rut will focus in on the first Omega they encounter if they are not mated. Anything that can bring them the kind of relief they’re looking for. The fact that this one is in a public place concerns me.

“Come on, be a good boy and help an Alpha out,” The Alpha’s plea is probably meant to entice him but Jimin shudders. Maybe he doesn’t know Jimin is already mated? Although, he definitely smells like other Alphas. I step forward and grab Jimin’s hand, pulling him closer to me so his back isn’t against the shelves anymore.

“We should go. I bet Yoongi and Namjoon are looking for us,” I try to keep my tone cheerful but I doubt it’s convincing. My hand shakes in his.

“Awe, two little Omegas for the price of one? You guys should be begging to help an Alpha out,” The Alpha’s voice makes me cringe. I hate that tone. I’ve heard it too many times.

“Our Alphas are looking for us,” My voice is small but firm.

“No self respecting Alpha would let his Omegas wander off alone. You’d be better off with me anyway,” He’s trying to entice us, to convince us, but I can see the annoyance in Jimin’s expression.

“What right do you have to disrespect my Alphas? Just because we’re Omegas doesn’t mean we can’t go off by ourselves. We’re grown ass adults and your opinion doesn’t fucking matter,” Jimin’s voice is close to a growl. I squeeze his hand reassuringly.

“Such disrespectful little bitches need to be taught a lesson,” He raises his hand but stops in his tracks.

“You wanna run that by me one more time?” Yoongi’s voice is dark and stormy. I let out a long breath that I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Do these disrespectful Omegas belong to you?” The scent of the other Alpha’s rut intensifies at the presence of another Alpha. I cover my nose, taking a shuddering breath through my mouth. Since I’m not technically mated, the smell of his rut seems to be affecting me more than it does Jimin.

“It’s not disrespect if the person deserves it, way I see it. Now, I would appreciate it if you would leave my Omegas alone,” Yoongi’s arm casually drapes over my shoulder, pulling me back into him.

“This one,” He levels a finger at me,” Doesn’t have a mating mark. Maybe you’ll let me take her for a spin.”

“Do you wanna die?” Yoongi’s tone is casual but Jimin’s grip on my hand tightens.

“Hey guys, what’s the hold up? We still have a few more stops to hit?” Jungkook’s voice comes from the front of the store. The silence between the four of us allows us to hear his approaching footsteps. Jungkook stops behind us, seemingly confused,” What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Lets just get out of here,” I speak up, turning my back on the Alpha and gently push Yoongi back toward Jungkook. He resists for a moment and then lets me push him back. We leave the store and rejoin the rest of the group. I try to keep my mind off of the strange Alpha and his attempts at Jimin. I was used to people making passes or comments to me, as an unmated Omega, but it made me uncomfortable that he acted like that to Jimin.

I throw myself into my mission. I find a pair of matching necklaces for Jimin and Taehyung. A watch for Namjoon and a different, more discreet necklace for Jin. It’s a good thing I already bought Yoongi’s because he stays glued to my side. That Alpha must have really put him on edge because his Alpha seems to be bubbling up every time someone talks to me.

“Where do we wanna eat?” Jimin’s voice speaks out over the thrum of everyone’s chatter.

“Can we try that new steak house? I’ve been dying for a steak,” Jin grins, wrapping himself around Taehyung as he speaks. Taehyung seems to have cheered up significantly, especially after he got to go to the art supply store and order all new supplies.

We pile into our cars and head to the restaurant. I end up seated between Yoongi and Taehyung, at his request. I lean my head on his shoulder, letting Yoongi pick out what to order for me. I don’t really care, just feeling content to lean on Taehyung. It’s been a long day. The idle chatter dies down some when the food comes out. I keep my head on Tae’s shoulder, not quire ready to eat yet. I’m not used to eating so often.

“Baby, you need to eat,” The look Namjoon gives me a warning. I finally sit up and take a few bites of the steak in front of me. Yoongi puts some of his pasta on my plate. I cut up part of my steak and put it on his in return.

“I can’t eat all of it,” I shrug. The food makes me feel sleepy, my stomach quickly filling. From there, we head to the movie theater. I have no idea what movie we’re seeing but it doesn’t really matter. The seats recline and Taehyung has me sitting in his lap. I curl up, my face nuzzled into his neck. I doze off, the long day catching up to me. I sleep soundly until a hand shakes my shoulder.

“Huh?” I look up groggily to see an amused Hoseok.

“Looks like our babies were tired,” He coos. I look down to see that Taehyung has also fallen asleep. After we rouse him, we finally decide to forgo the arcade for tonight and head home. When we get home, I start handing out the gifts I bought everyone.

Jimin and Taehyung���s necklaces are on silver chains with compass pendants. Jin’s has a small silver lock on it and appears quite simple but suits him. Namjoon’s watch has a brown leather band and a silver watch face. Yoongi’s ring is silver and bulky with a blue stone. Hoseok’s is a complicated, twisted silver and gold band with no stone. Jimin’s is silver and winding, overlapping each other in some spots.

“Did you only buy things for us?” Namjoon looks at me in surprise.

“You guys have bought me so many things. There was nothing I needed to buy. I wanted to get you guys something,” Saying the sentiment out loud makes me feel shy. My fingers twist together as I look at the floor.

“Good thing I bought you something then,” I look up at Yoongi’s words. He holds out a small jewelry box to me. Inside is a silver ring with a white stone I don’t recognize,” White Opal. All of us have one and it was time you got yours too.”

He slips it out of the box and onto my finger. I throw my arms around him. It makes me feel like I belong. Everyone begins to split off, Jimin practically dragging Taehyung up the stairs. I make my way to my room after watching Jin escort (maybe more like drag) Yoongi upstairs to his room. It’s the first time I’ve been alone in my room. Something about being alone in here makes me anxious. After what happened to Jimin and I earlier, I decide to head down to Jungkook’s gym.

I lay out some mats and practice what he taught me. If I’m going to have to stand up for myself, I’m going to have to be stronger. I can’t keep standing by and letting them defend me. If I can’t defend myself, I’m always going to be the victim. I can’t be the victim anymore. It’s almost daylight by the time I decide I’ve practiced enough. I fall back on the mat, breathless and sweating. I close my eyes, exhausted. Without meaning to, I fall asleep.

[heroineimages]

My folks are moving into their new house but don’t have to be out of their old house until the end of the year, so they’re taking their time at sorting through 43 years of accumulated... stuff. They’ve thus asked me to stay at the old house until the last of said stuff has been either moved or gotten rid of. So if I’m at all scarce on Tumblr for a while, this is why.

Their poor, confused cat, meanwhile, hasn’t made the move yet and is perpetually perplexed at how rapidly her environment keeps disappearing. She makes her confusion known with lost, sad, and slightly pitiful little meows.

[starlitangels]

Kelabu. I just shorten it to "Klabu" tho. It means Gray in Malay, cus she's.. gray..

Asset definitely asked James to go to a cat cafe after Anton mentions they exist.

That’s really cute! And there’s nothing wrong with naming a pet for their fur color. I’ve known a yellow cat named “Blondie” so it works!

James being the adopted family of Asset in some sort of perpetually-perplexed-older-brother kinda way is hilarious

[btsinwonderland]

A Drop of Poison - Ch. 4: An Invitation

A Loki fanfiction!

Previous Chapter --- Next Chapter

Full Chapter List

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“You’re late!” Valkyrie said, stuffing a pancake into her mouth as you approached her table in the Great Hall. “And you look like shit.”

You could feel the papery dryness of your eyes. Each blink felt grating. “I didn’t have a great sleep…” you said, hoping that your face did not give away the perpetual embarrassment you felt every time you thought about what happened the night before.

“Was it the dream again?” Valkyrie said, handing you a plate she filled with hash browns and eggs.

You took it gratefully. “No, I...went to the restricted section of the library last night,” you said, looking down at your plate. An image of Professor Laufeyson’s bare chest flashed before your eyes and you nearly dropped your fork.

“What!” She spoke so loud that several of the people surrounding you and at the other tables glanced at you both.

“Shhh! Don’t be so loud,” you whispered.

“You went without me,” she said, stuffing a mushroom into her mouth.

“It couldn’t wait, but I didn’t even find what I was looking for,” you said.

“And what was that?”

You were about to speak when you saw Professor Laufeyson enter the Great Hall. You nearly choked on your hash browns when he glanced at you. “I have to go,” you said and ran out of the hall.

You did not look back, and you did not stop walking until you realized you were back at the library. Your subconscious seemed to have a sense of humour that you did not find particularly funny. As you stood at the door like a deer in the headlights, someone nearly body checked you to the side as they entered the library.

“Out of the way, mudblood,” he said. His blue hair was striking in the daylight.

“Watch it, Talon,” you said.

He turned to you with a glare, then he smiled coldly and walked on.

You nearly rolled your eyes straight to the back of your head. Talon, the one person you would not mind using one or two of the unforgivable curses on. Just a bit of the Imperious to make him wet his pants in class, maybe? Nothing too awful. You still remember the way he laughed when he stuffed you and one other student into a Shrinking Shed in a pawnshop in Knockturn Alley. It was only your second year, and you berated yourself for trusting any wizard that said they “had something cool to show you” since that day. The poor boy you were stuck with broke his arm and may have broken the other, lest Professor Heimdall had not come by the shop; by that time the shed was half the size of a fridge. You still hated confined spaces from that day onwards.

He walked towards a blonde Slytherin girl trying to finish her homework at a large table. She looked less than pleased at his interruption. You rolled your eyes and moved on.

Your thoughts drifted back to the previous night as you headed to the back of the library. And just like that, it transported you into a completely different head space. Professor Laufeyson. You thought about his smooth skin and the way the moonlight glinted off the sweat on his body.

Thinking of him like that put you in a sort of daze, where you were so embarrassed you thought you might die but also so intrigued that you could not stop yourself from wondering. You paused where you were and gazed at the restricted section. From there, you could see the table where he had...relations with Professor Sif. You remembered her panting and writhing in pleasure. The entire night you had thought about only one thing. What did that feel like?

You knew how your own fingers felt, and despite how wonderful that was, you had always been curious about something more. Valkyrie had described it to you in visceral detail several times. She had said that if the person knew what they were doing, that it could be amazing. Higher than high. But if the person only cared about themselves, it could be quite awful. From the looks of it, Professor Laufeyson knew what he was doing.

Something about him felt different. Enticing. The way his lean muscles flexed as he gripped the edges of the table and the way his eyes glowed. Heat coursed through you, and the muscles in your stomach tightened. You had not been this bothered in all your life and had a fleeting thought of whether there was a way to quit Potions class. You rubbed your eyes and face. The book. That was what you came here for.

“Are you alright?” A sweet voice said.

You opened your eyes; it was Pom. She was carrying four large textbooks and placed them on a study table between the aisles.

Putting on your most convincing smile, you said, “I’m fine, I was just looking for a book.”

“Oh? What one?” she said, her eyes lit up.

Pom did frequent the library. Perhaps she could be of use. “It’s about cats, common spells for cats.”

She gave you a look.

“No, I’m serious! I just really love cats,” you said. It was not a lie, though you preferred reptiles.

“Well, where is it supposed to be?”

You thought about how to put it. “Well, that’s the thing. I was informed that it would be in one place, but it’s no longer there. And I don’t think anyone checked it out.”

Pom thought about it for a moment. Then her eyes lit up. “Maybe it’s a switcher!”

“Switcher?”

She nodded with an excited smile. “I’ve only ever encountered one of them. But there was once a book that my brother and I were looking for. I heard it was the journal of a student who created their own spells. And I think we found it, but right before Ken could pick it up from the shelf, it faded and disappeared. About two months later, I saw it again, on the other side of the library. I reached for it, but it disappeared. I talked to one of our senior prefects and she told me there’s a rumour about books in the library. Apparently, some of them like to disappear and reappear. Nobody knows how to catch them, but there’s a theory that they’ll come to you if you need them.”

You raised your eyebrows at the thought of disappearing books. Of course the book you needed to find was evading you. “So if I need it badly enough...I might find it?” You said.

Pom nodded with an unsure smile. You thanked her as she picked up her pile of books and wandered off to study.

A bright pink guide on potions stood out as you looked at the shelves. Flora and Fawna for Beginners. You sighed. This was going to be a long day.

So you roamed. You roamed the bookshelves for hours, reading every title, every author name and every little scroll in the cabinets. It was tedious beyond belief and you stopped to rest a few times. After your third hour of wandering the library and receiving strange looks from the students you passed by for the thirtieth time, you sighed and sat right on the floor, in between the Magical Creatures and Astrocentric Religions sections. Your stomach rumbled from hunger and you wondered if it was time to give up yet. So much for your investigation. It felt quite less glamorous when you were at the start of it and all you could muster up was sitting on your bottom with an empty stomach and dry hands.

You looked out the window at the end of the aisle; the day was overcast again. It has been raining non stop this season. You got up, defeated, and ready to find some food. Suddenly, there was a sharp bang on the window and you turned to see what it was. A dark smudge was streaked across the glass and you walked up to it for a closer look. You nearly jumped a foot in the air when another bird flew into the window. It fell and you could not see where it landed, but you wondered if it was dead.

A few more birds banged into the windows, and other students got up from their chairs to see the disturbance. One girl gasped so loudly that the librarian had to come over and calm everyone down. The librarian looked at the windows and grumbled to herself as she went out to inform someone of the mess.

You walked across the aisles to observe the other windows, and each one was streaked with a dark red stain. As you walked by the first year selection of books near the front of the library, you noticed in the corner, on the bottom shelf there was a new title. Something you had not noticed before. The spine was dark red and your eyes widened at the title “Spells for the Common House Cat”.

Nearly diving for the book, you crouched down and grabbed it, thinking it would disappear right before your eyes. But, you held it in your hands and yelled out a “yes!” This earned you a shush from the students who were studying.

You were so elated to read the book once you returned to the common room that you nearly ran into the door as you exited the library. It was already an hour past dinner at the Great Hall; you imagined Valkyrie had stuffed her face full already and probably wondered where you were. You picked up your pace and raced through the halls with meat pies on your mind and the book in your hands. The texture was of a smooth aged leather, with odd scratches along the spine and cover. The writing on the cover was a rushed scrawl with black ink and you flipped through the inside, only to see pages and pages of the same hurried writing. There was one passage that caught your eye:

Informed though we may be of my house we are not warned to eat live snakes. Wish you well my balloon animal friend. Did you know hats wore cow bells on their noses? Bells bells bells! Nasty business wandering through the dry sun. If there is one watered down lion to know, it’s Muriel and her tacky shoes.

You were so perplexed you said aloud, “What the fu-”

A hard body stopped your momentum, and you fell right on your rear onto the floor. The book fell out of your hands and you rubbed your nose where it was bumped. “I’m so sorry, I-” You looked up and your mouth went dry.

Professor Laufeyson was standing above you, with your book in his hand, and his eyebrows slightly raised. You saw the recognition in his gaze as he assessed you and a whisper of a smile appeared on his lips; it disappeared again into his usual stoic expression. You remained on the floor and stared at him for several seconds, as if you were paralyzed.

He reached down and helped you up. “We keep bumping into one another, don’t we, Miss Eves?” He said, throwing you a smile that almost knocked you down again.

“Y-yes, I suppose so.”

He handed you the book, glancing at the title. “Interesting literature, is it for your classes or for pleasure?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Just for fun.”

“Ah, and is this a title you found in your evening forays into the library?” He said, leaning close so you could see the flecks of lighter blue in his eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat. He knew. He knew. Oh god. He knew. Your mind made a split second decision.

“I’m not sure what you mean, sir,” you said, gripping the book tightly against your body.

Professor Laufeyson chuckled and leaned against the wall, further away from you. You breathed a little easier. “It seems that a student has been out of bed and has seen things she should not have,” he said, crossing his arms. His eyes looked down at you with a mocking sort of sternness. “It could lead to expulsion…”

You held his hard gaze, not denying anything but not giving in. It seemed he was testing you, checking your resolve. You took a silent breath and looked right back at him. There was no way he could get you into trouble without admitting his own faults. “I wonder what the protocols are for teachers and acceptable behaviour on school grounds?” You said, sticking your chin up and thinking you sounded more like an insolent child than anything else.

He smiled widely. “Ah, very good, Miss Eves! Worry not. If I wanted to expel you I would have had Professor Sif handle it,” he said.

“I haven’t told anyone, and I don’t plan to,” you said. You finally lost your resolve and looked at the floor. Your cheeks heated at the thought of him half naked. “Th-thank you for not letting Professor Sif see me.”

“Miss Eves, it is simply water under the troll bridge. Though, I have a bit of a favour to ask of you,” he said. “Perhaps we can call it even then.”

You glanced up, and he had moved away from the wall and was now standing a couple of inches away from you. “Yes, sir?”

“That envelope you gave me was an invitation to dinner with the Headmistress and Professor Odinson. That’s just where I’m headed now, in fact. And I would love for you to accompany me,” he said, holding out his hand like a gentleman.

You stared at his hand, and then up at him, dumbfounded. “What?”

He smiled and reached over to your shoulder, guiding you to follow him. As you both walked, he said, “To be completely honest with you, I just hate these family reunion dinners. Terribly awkward. It would be a pleasure to have you there.”

“I’d hate to crash a dinner party. I’m sure Headmistress Frigga just wanted a family affair. Plus, I’m not even hungry!” You said, and then your stomach growled most viciously. You looked down at it with a look of betrayal.

“It will be fun, I promise. Rainbow umbrella,” he said.

You realized you were already at the Headmistress’s office as the statue of the gargoyle began to turn. “But sir,” you started, but he smiled at you so disarmingly that you could not find any words to deny his request. He grabbed your hand and led you up the steps and you were sure that this was an awful, terrible idea.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

A Day in the Life of a Raven

Part 3 of the CYOA style event to celebrate 3k+ followers! As per the results from the last poll, we'll see what Miss Raven's new form is. (Sorry for the delay on this part, I got caught up with wedding requests 💦)

Miss Raven artwork is credited to @shimmeryspark!

In the Morning: The Raven, Punished

If Raven thought Sebek’s rage was scary, she hadn’t experienced Crewel’s tongue lashing yet. The sharp CRACK of their professor’s pointer upon his desk—worn from past beatings—paired with his steely eyes, smoldering with quiet rage, filled her with terror. An almost paralyzing kind.

“BAD BOYS!!”

She curled into her new form, quaking in fear. Ears flattened, tail tucked in, whiskers shaking—just like any scared kitten would be.

“Because of your negligence in the laboratory, your partner was transmuted,” Crewel barked, his seething rage tearing into Sebek’s already wounded pride.

“I apologize, sir!!” the first year cried. Since entering Crewel’s office, he had been shouting that phrase, perpetually hunched over in a bow of shame. “I do not know what overcame me...!! In the midst of impassioned speech, I let the stardust fall out of my grasp!!”

“I do not want to hear excuses!” Crewel snapped his head to the shaking furball in the seat adjacent to Sebek. “And you, young Crowley—you would not be in this predicament if you had obeyed lab rules: no running!! Simply several steps away from the cauldron would have been enough to save your tail.”

“Mew, mew....” Sorry, sir...

Crewel pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned in exasperation. “I’ll write up an incidence report. Your Dorm Leader and the headmaster will receive a copy, so they will be aware of your transgressions.”

“WH-WHAT?!” Sebek’s face was wet with perspiration. “D-Do you mean to say... The Young Master is to be informed of my mistake?!”

“Indeed. It reflects poorly on a dorm when its students make such dangerous errors in the classroom. Therefore, it stands to reason that the prefects of each dorm are to be told when their students step out of line—so that they may properly discipline the offending individual. In addition to whatever punishment Draconia inflicts upon you, you will write a 25 page apology letter, due by tomorrow morning at 8 am.”

“Grrrrgh...!” Sebek clenched a fist, digging his nails in so hard that Raven feared he may have drawn blood, or popped a vein. “I... I will accept my punishment with honor, sir!!”

“Good. As for you, young Crowley... I trust that the headmaster will be the one disciplining you. However... It would be rather difficult for you to write an apology letter in your current state.”

“Meow, mya nya? Mew meow myah... Meow meow meow!!” Can you turn me back, please? Once I’m back to normal, I can definitely write 25 pages by tomorrow... No, make it 50 pages!!

Crewel’s lip curled. “Writing is a past time of yours, is it not? Then to you, it is not much of a determent at all. Instead, your punishment shall be—”

Going through the rest of the school day as a cat.

The body of a feline was jarring to navigate the world with, as Raven would come to learn. In her bird form, though she was tiny, she at least had the advantage of flight. Alas, cats were grounded creatures, left to the mercy of the streets and crowded hallways, where boys stomped on her tail or paws with little remorse.

Heart racing, she clumsily weaved between the students, and dove, tumbling, into her next class. She was lucky to have made it to Magic History in one piece—though her limbs throbbed with a dull, aching pain, and her peers stared when she scrambled into her seat. (Ace snickered in her general direction, silenced only by Deuce digging his elbow into his side and giving a glare.)

Professor Trein, too, had given her a perplexed look as he went about his lecture. Then again, having a cat for a student wasn’t the most odd thing that had happened during his time at NRC.

Before long, the class had wrapped up, and the students dismissed to their next period, or lunch. On his way out, Ace paused to send a “L” her way. Deuce ushered him past the door with a brief “sorry” and a sympathetic look.

Raven mewled with relief once the two had vanished. Her stomach was far more snappy, growling loudly to get her attention. Avoiding getting her small body crushed by feet had taken a lot of energy out of her—and what better way to replenish than with some food?

Ah... but where should I go to eat? She wondered, tail swishing behind her in curiosity. I don’t exactly have my wallet on me because of this feline form, but perhaps I could find some scraps on my own, or find a student well-versed in Animal Languages to assist me.

[danger-xylophones]

Could I maybe request a Grand Admiral thrawn x artist reader?

Of course! We stan the grand admiral. 

I very much ran away with this one...woops.

Remarkable (Grand Admiral Thrawn x reader)

Lothal is...quiet. A stark contrast to the perpetually busy streets of Coruscant or even the ever-present thrum of business aboard the Chimeara. You found you quite liked the dull by comparison planet as it afforded you the one thing you’d always gone without; a break. As Vice-Admiral of the modified Star Destroyer you were never without work for long-such is the price to pay for being good at your job-which meant that moments like these were rare at best and nonexistent the rest of the time. 

You find yourself in one of the many plains Lothal has to offer, seated cross-legged atop a small jagged rock formation with a flattened top telling you that you weren’t the only one to observe from this place. In hand is a stylus, resting atop where your legs decussate is a clipboard holding a piece of flimsi you’d managed to pilfer out of the Grand Admiral’s office. 

It’s been a while since you’d had the time to sit and sketch and it shows in the way your lines waver. They grow lighter in some areas and darker in others in a manner depicting someone out of practice rather than someone who has drawn their whole life. But you press on, determined to use this precious time to yourself as a means to preserve your skill for recreation. It’s a simple piece-a landscape drawing meant to capture the rather unremarkable terrain of the Outer Rim planet but it brings you peace as you watch the stylus deposit its plumbago along the line you decide with your hand before retreating as you do to look up at the bizarre rock formation you are currently trying to capture once more. Perhaps it is because you have been soothed by the simple process that you miss the key sounds that signal approach. 

“What are you doing out here, my dear?” The deep voice practically purs in your ear. You startle, stylus flying away from you as your body jerks to life. You are moving before you’re aware of it. Both hands move to clasp the clipboard as you spin ‘round to swing it at whoever dares to intrude on your personal time. But you are stopped before you make any contact by two blue hands wrapping around your wrists. Your eyes clear and meet with deep red ones, impassive to all but you can see the glimmer of amusement hiding behind them. He finds this funny. “Calm yourself, my love, I did not mean to startle you.” 

You can’t help but scoff at that. “Oh, of course, you didn’t.” You hiss but there is no weight to it. And Thrawn knows this. He releases you and you immediately begin locating your stylus, hopeful that the lead did not break. 

“I truly did not, Y/n.” Thrawn hums as you turn away from him to scour the tall grass beneath your perching rock like a shriek-hawk examining the ground for easy prey. “I was merely trying to locate you aboard the ship and when I could not, I was informed that you had left for a walk.” Unable to locate the stylus, you huff and turn back towards the Grand Admiral. From your position atop the rock, you peer down at him. But he does not look at you. He is, instead, solely focused on your missing stylus that he holds up as though for an examination. “I was not aware you draw, my love.” 

You can’t help but fidget and Thrawn takes a note as he drags his eyes away from the utensil and up to you. “Uh...It’s not really something I get to do all that often...what with the Empire and all.” You explain lamely, slowly sinking back into a seated position. You kick your legs over the side of the rock before sliding your hands into your lap, clasped over the over-turned clipboard, as you chew on your bottom lip and avoid eye contact with your lover. It was hard to explain but in this moment you wanted nothing more than to return to your drawing-alone. You could physically feel the seconds ticking away-moments of precious time meant to be spent in seclusion slipping by. 

“Indeed.” Thrawn hummed, less in agreement, and more so as an acknowledgment of what you had said. Carefully he held the stylus out for you to take and you readily reclaimed the simple tool. But instead of picking up the clipboard to begin drawing anew like Thrawn expected you to do-you just rested it on the back-your sketch still face down against your thighs. Thrawn’s eyebrow quirked upwards ever so slightly in confusion. “Do you...not wish for me to see your artwork?” 

Your eyes widen. “Yes! I mean, no! I mean...” You take a breath to collect yourself, “I mean...it’s just, it’s not an artwork-it’s just a sketch.” You try to explain to cover up your all too eager response. The reality is, you’re scared to show it to him.

“Every step in the creation of a masterpiece is an artwork in its own right.” Thrawn replies without missing a beat and you feel your face flush. “May I see it?” Sighing, you carefully lift the clipboard off your lap and discreetly check to see if in your haste to hide it you smudged the lead. Maybe if you did and you asked to have some time to fix it, he’d forget? Unlikely, Thrawn never forgets anything. It is both a blessing and a curse. Still, you hand it to him. Thrawn spends a few seconds in silence and you watch as his dark red eyes dart left and right in an examination of the simple sketch. “Remarkable.” He eventually hums and you tilt your head in confusion. 

“Remarkable?” You repeat. 

“Remarkable.” He confirms with a solid nod. He hands the clipboard back to you and you immediately began reexamining it. You knew remarkable-remarkable was the artwork Thrawn studied on a daily basis. Remarkable was the artwork he always compared your appearance to. Remarkable was Thrawn himself, his intellect unmatched by any one person in the Empire. Remarkable wasn’t a half-finished sketch of Lothal. “Simply,” you feel him move closer but don’t look at him, far too perplexed by your own drawing, “remarkable.” There is a press against your temple and you can feel the word vibrate against your skin as he speaks. He is pulling away just as you turn to him with wide eyes. “Your attention to detail and perspective is astonishing, my love, and it reads so clearly even in the beginning stages of your process. While your lines show that it has been a while since you’ve actively drawn, you’ve used that to your advantage to give your sketch the appearance that all of this is fleeting-subject to change at any given moment.” You glance down at the flimsi once more, not at all seeing what he was getting at. “And most remarkable of all-your willingness to show me such an intimate part of the art process. The idea.” 

You were aware that you were now gaping at the Grand Admiral, entirely perplexed. He offered you a rare smile. “That is often the most difficult thing to do. To explain your idea before it’s been realized can be frightening as it often opens the artist up to ridicule before they’ve even begun.” He said no more and you were left staring blankly at the sketch. A beat passed before you heard the shifting of fabric and the familiar caress of Thrawn’s hand on your jaw. With barely any effort, he pulled your face closer to him so he could press a delicate kiss to your forehead. “Would you mind if I stayed with you while you continued?” You couldn’t find it within you to form words so instead, you shook your head. Thrawn lithely hopped up onto the rock you were seated on with all the litheness of a loth-cat and settled next to you. Without a word, he pulled out a datapad and opened it up to the holo-novel he’d been reading in his off time. Finally understanding what had happened, you smiled at the side of his face before moving to place a kiss of your own on his high cheekbone. It lifted imperceptibly. 

Quietly, you unlipped the piece of flimsi you’d been sketching on and flipped it over. Readying your stylus, you began drawing once more-this time with a new, remarkable muse in mind. 

[risualto]

But I Was Listening

Title: But I Was Listening Summary: When such incidents had become so commonplace that even Yda took notice—something about Tataru laughing in response to Rihnkiki’s voice in her ear well after the lalafell usually took leave of her post—Minfilia wondered if perhaps she ought say something to them about it. Or, Inky and Tataru have each other on magical speed dial, and everyone else just has to deal with it. Warnings: spoilers for ARR through “All Good Things” (again).  Some discussion of death/blood but nothing graphic. Notes: More of a joke warning than a real one, but I imply someone was rude to Tataru (i.e. was a bit of a Karen towards our favorite customer service rep in the game).  And that’s utterly unacceptable.  Story starts a little sad and ominous bc Minfilia overthinks things, but it’s cute, I promise.  Title is still from “1000 Words” from FFX-2.

At first, Minfilia wondered if it was a trauma reaction.  Despite Rihnkiki’s apparently perpetual good mood and easy smiles, Minfilia could no more believe Rihnkiki unaffected by the raid on the Waking Sands than she could erase the breathless gasps and blood from her dreams.

Therefore, when she first began to notice how quickly Rihnkiki responded to Tataru’s linkpearl summons, it was only natural to recall that the very last time Rihnkiki had heard their beloved receptionist’s voice before that massacre had been during such a call.  Minfilia was most assuredly glad that Rihnkiki had arrived no sooner than she did, of course.  For many more would have died had she fallen into the Empire’s hands that day.  Yet, having been through so much loss already, Minfilia was no stranger to the miring thoughts of, “If only I had…”

This all had seemed at the time to be the most credible of motivations for incidents such as Tataru mentioning across the linkpearl that she had something to share with Rihnkiki, if she would pray return, and Rihnkiki doing so immediately.  Even while their conversation continued and Tataru made known that this item of import was in fact merely a rare type of dye, Rihnkiki had clearly begun to teleport the very instant Tataru spoke to her, appearing at the doors of the storage room not a quarter bell later.  There was no fear in her eyes, however, and nothing frantic save the oft-impatient edge that accompanies delight.

This was something that Minfilia found still further perplexing when she later discovered, firstly, that the task Rihnkiki had left behind that day was a very delicate excavation of Amdapori ruins; and secondly, that the dye was related not a bit to any duty, even those of the weaver’s guild.

When such incidents had become so commonplace that even Yda took notice—something about Tataru laughing in response to Rihnkiki’s voice in her ear well after the lalafell usually took leave of her post—Minfilia wondered if perhaps she ought say something to them about it.  But it harmed little, and Tataru’s smiles grew less brittle daily as a result.   The Warrior of Light certainly had not become remiss in her duties, either, even if Minfilia had confirmed that none other, even Cid, could reach Rihnkiki with such reliable alacrity.

“Could be useful, if I’m to be honest,” Thancred said once when Minfilia broached the subject amidst the other Scions.  “None save we who are close to them know this is the fastest way to reach Inky, and if the topic of discussion matters not to the result…”  He trailed the words leadingly, eyes glinting like a cat in the night.

Papalymo was the first to catch the thread, a hand curling at his chin as he hummed curiously.  “You mean it could be used as a code… And ever a subtle one, at that!”

Minfilia could scarce deny that such a tactic would be remarkably useful. And yet… “Would it be fair to allow work as dangerous as ours to taint something which brings them both such comfort?” she mused aloud.

“That is a fair point…” Yda agreed.

“Tataru and Rihnkiki both hath agreed, by nature of their loyalty to that dawn which we doth champion, that none shall come before our noble cause, however,” Urianger said, his voice as close to chastising as Minfilia had heard it in many moons.  “Wouldst any of thee object?”

Y’shtola spoke for them all when she replied, “Assuredly not.”  She crossed her arms in the terse silence and raised one hand to tap at her cheek.  When she spoke again, it was with much more hope than Minfilia expected to follow such a truth.

“It may not be so much a problem as you imagine.”  All eyes turned to her, and she dropped her hand to continue with a near-smile.  “I overheard one such conversation which Tataru began despite being occupied in the moment with a petitioner…”

Minfilia’s mouth dropped open a second before she could catch herself.  ���That…does not sound like Tataru,” she said.

“So I thought as well, until I heard the way this merchant spoke to her. To describe his conduct as unbecoming would be generous,” Y’shtola said.

“Then you assume,” Papalymo said, “that Tataru was subtly trying to ask for support?”

Y’shtola nodded.  “’Tis so exactly.”

A soft whistle passed Thancred’s lips.  “Who could have known our dear Tataru had it in her,” he mused, not truly asking anyone for an answer.

“I very much doubt that was ever in question,” Minfilia replied anyway as Y’shtola nodded.  “So I see it may not truly be such a burden on them that we know this and could use it someday.”

It became an open secret of the Scions—the surest way to reach Inky was Tataru. As it turned out, the opposite was every ilm as true, though it was more rarely useful as the Warrior of Light was most wont of the two of them to be otherwise unreachable in some distant nook of the realm.

However it may have been born, the connection between Tataru and Inky was one of purely joyful companionship, or so Minfilia thought.  She watched Tataru hurry away from the solar, out into the Rising Stones, with one hand still up to her ear, and Minfilia decided that if she could not remember the last time Tataru had been so excited over something she wanted, that this, too, was a part of the new era’s light.

(She would likewise never forget the moment Inky herself realized everyone knew: Moenbryda, having finished a dire technical explanation, said to her, “You see now why I had Tataru summon you.”  Inky had frozen for a second as the pieces settled in her mind whilst the other Scions fell prey, each, to a slow smile.  A little private bit of sunlight in their new solar—and these days, business as usual.)